


Burn From Within

by MayorHaggar



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Breeding, Cousin Incest, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Incest, Lactation Kink, Parent/Child Incest, Prostitution, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:34:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22981093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayorHaggar/pseuds/MayorHaggar
Summary: Before he died, Aerys Targaryen found a unique way to have his vengeance on his enemies. Years later, the dragon’s wrath hits the Stark family via Robb, the new Lord Stark.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Catelyn Tully Stark, Bran Stark/Sansa Stark, Rhaella Targaryen/Viserys Targaryen, Ros/Robb Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 74





	1. The Lady in the Brothel (Robb/Ros)

_Burn them all._

_That was the thought running through the head of King Aerys Targaryen as the word of Tywin Lannister’s betrayal reached him. This was it then. His enemies had finally succeeded in cornering him. His pregnant wife and young son Viserys would hopefully escape, but as for him, the end was near. But he wasn’t going to go down without a fight._

_Aerys’ first plan, should things reach this point, had been to have the alchemists burn down King’s Landing and everyone inside of it with wildfire. But then he’d thought of a different form of vengeance, a more fitting punishment to inflict on all of those supposedly loyal vassals who had turned on them._

_This hadn’t started with Rhaegar and that Stark whore he’d taken. It went back much further than that. For hundreds of years now, the other noble houses had attempted to shame the Targaryens for keeping its bloodlines pure by marrying within the family. They hadn’t dared to speak out against it publicly because they feared the wrath of the dragon, but the Targaryens had always known that the other noble houses decried the practice behind their back._

_What more fitting punishment could there be than to destroy those noble houses from within, and through the very same taboo that they’d spent centuries shaming the Targaryens for?_

_He’d brought in a sorcerer from Essos, who told him of a spell that could be cast over the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms. The spell would inflict the noble houses of Westeros for centuries to come. It wouldn’t hit all at once, but from time to time would flare to life within members of one of the families. A massive heat would wash over them, overwhelming their senses and their reason and their feelings of honor or morality. They would be left unable to be attracted to anyone other than a member (or even multiple members, in certain cases) of their own family, of their blood. The curse would be inescapable and permanent once it took hold in a noble’s mind. They would be cursed to fall in love and mate with only their own blood. They would become the thing that they so despised the Targaryens for!_

_“Do it!” he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth as he looked at the sorcerer from Essos, who nodded and began his work._

_Tywin’s whelp Jaime approached, and Aerys hurried over to him. If the brat remained a loyal member of the Kingsguard, it would be very amusing to see father fight son before his own life was lost. And if he was to betray his vow and become a kingslayer, at least Aerys would have kept the young Lannister away from the sorcerer until it was too late to stop the spell from taking hold._

\--

_Years Later_

“Come on, Robb! You’ve earned this!”

“I’m the Lord of Winterfell, Theon,” Robb protested. “It isn’t proper for me to visit a brothel.”

“That’s even _more_ reason!” his friend insisted. “You’ve been working yourself to the bone ever since your father died. You need a break, and take it from me, nothing helps you unwind quite like a good fuck!”

“And what if I father a bastard?”

“They have teas to prevent that,” Theon said, unbothered as he led his friend towards the brothel in the winter town situated at Winterfell’s main gatehouse. “Besides, you’d hardly be the first Lord of Winterfell to father a bastard. And unlike your father, you don’t even have a bride or a betrothed to be faithful to!”

“Do not speak ill of my father,” he said shortly. It had been almost six moons since Ned Stark had suddenly collapsed in his solar, never to rise again. He was the most honorable man Robb had ever known, bastard or no bastard.

“Right, sorry,” Theon said quickly, knowing it was a sensitive subject. “At least your family didn’t get hit by the dragon’s wrath, right?”

“I thank the old gods for that,” Robb said, shuddering. Unlike some of the other families, the Starks had been spared from whatever strange magic Mad King Aerys had unleashed on the realm when he died. He’d never had even a single lustful thought about his sisters Arya and Sansa, or his mother. “I suppose you’re right,” he said with a sigh. “It would be good to take my mind off of my responsibilities for an hour or two. Besides, it would be good to have some experience in the bedchamber before I eventually do decide on a woman to take to wife.”

“Now you’re talking!” Theon said, chuckling. “And tell you what, since it’s your first time, I’ll let you have Ros. A Lord of Winterfell should only have the very best for his first time.”

“Not sure I want a woman you’ve been with, Greyjoy,” he said, but allowed himself to be led into the brothel nevertheless.

“Lord Greyjoy!” a man said, smiling as soon as Theon pushed through the door. “Back again for more already?”

“You’ll never be rid of me, Leo,” Theon said. “But I’ve brought a special treat with me today.” He stepped to the side, and now the proprietor of the brothel had an unobstructed view of Robb. It took a moment, but Robb could see the moment where that spark of recognition hit him.

“L-Lord Stark!” the man said, hurrying over to him. “I never thought I’d see the day that a Lord of Winterfell would grace my humble establishment with his presence!” Robb winced, since the man’s words reinforced the fact that this was not something his father had ever done. But then again, his father had already had a bride when he rode out for the Rebellion, and that hadn’t stopped him from fathering Jon. Why shouldn’t Robb, an unwed man who had had the pressures of rule thrust upon him years before he’d expected them, take some time to unwind?

“Even the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North is a man, and a man who has needs that need satisfying, Leo,” Theon said. “He’ll be needing the best you can give him.”

“Of course, of course!” Leo said, nodding his head quickly. He started personally leading Robb towards a nearby room while one of his assistants handled Theon. “I’ll set you up with Ros to start, my lord.”

“Theon mentioned her. She’s the best, is she?”

“Oh yes, yes! She’s highly requested, my lord,” the man assured him. “If she’s not to your liking, of course, do not hesitate to say so. We have a wide variety of beautiful ladies on offer here, and any of them can be yours. We could even start you off with several at the same time if you’d prefer.”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Robb said. Despite his status, he was feeling nervous enough just thinking about being with one woman. Lord of Winterfell or not, he was still a man about to have his first time.

“As you say, Lord Stark.” The man led him to a closed door, bowed and took a step back. “She is just through here. If you need anything, you just call for me, my lord!”

“I will, thank you.” He nodded to the man and opened the door, trying to calm his nerves just before doing something he knew he would remember for the rest of his life. He had no idea just how true that thought would be, or just how much his life was about to change.

The moment he saw the woman reclining on the bed inside the room, his breath left his body and his heart began to pound. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. What was she doing working in a brothel? She should be a princess or at least a lady married to a high lord and helping him run his castle or stronghold. He had to have her, and had to have her now!

“ _Oh,_ ” she whispered after she locked up and locked eyes with him. She looked as breathless and stunned as he felt. Was she just doing her job as a whore and trying to excite him by feigning an instant attraction? Was she surprised because she’d recognized him? Or did she feel it too? Could it be that the same all-consuming heat he felt coursing through his entire body was assaulting her as well?

He moved towards her, and she rose from the bed to meet him. They met in a rush, bodies and lips colliding in a frenzy of passion that Robb hadn’t known was possible. Her hands were all over him, stroking his curly hair and beginning to undo his jerkin while their lips remained firmly pressed together. Her hands were deft and experienced, and had the jerkin off of him quickly. When she began to work on the breeches as well he realized that he needed to become more active himself.

His hands, which had been stroking her back and shoulders through the thin dress she wore, grabbed onto the dress and simply _tore._ There was no time to undress her properly; he needed her naked _now_! She wore nothing underneath the dress, so her body was bared to him fully.

Instinctively he knew that he would never see a more perfect woman in all his life, no matter if he traveled from one corner of Westeros to the other and met every single highborn woman in the entire Seven Kingdoms. Ros was the most beautiful woman in the world, and she’d been hidden away in this brothel in the winter town this whole time!

His hands ran down her back, stroking her gloriously bare skin this time, and grabbed a handful of each ass cheek. Her butt wasn’t particularly large, but in his mind it felt perfect in his hands. She moaned into his mouth and continued her work, and by the time he was ready for more she’d managed to get him completely undressed. His cock was already as hard as it had ever been in his life, and it poked against her as he scooped her into his arms and carried her bridal style to the bed. It felt right. It felt more right than anything he’d ever done in his life.

He laid her on the bed, climbed on top of her and returned his lips to hers with a passion that matched if not surpassed their first. Her hand had gone to his cock and she was stroking it. It felt infinitely better than any of the times he’d jerked himself off, her soft hand so much better than his rough one. But it wasn’t just because it was a woman’s hand on his cock; not just any woman would do. It had to be her; only she could make him feel this good. Theon would probably mock him for saying so, given that this was his first time with a woman, but Robb was absolutely certain that it was true. She was meant for him, he knew it deep in his bones.

She guided his cock to the entrance of her pussy and rubbed him against her, and he found her dripping wet. That wasn’t just because she was doing her job, he knew. She was so wet only because it was him, because she felt the same undeniable heat that he did.

“ _Push it in,_ ” she panted. “ _Please, push it in! Give it to me, my love!_ ” She didn’t say ‘My Lord’; she said ‘my love.’ Good. It showed she felt the same way he did.

Robb pushed his way in, and groaned at the feeling of completeness that struck him as soon as he was inside of her. It felt like coming home. This was where he belonged, and he never wanted to stick his cock inside of another woman. This Ros, this whore from the winter town, was the only woman he ever wanted to fuck. She was his now.

He proved his ownership of her by thrusting his hips against her, forcing his cock all the way inside of her. He didn’t bother to take it easy on her. If he’d been thinking about it logically he would have known that she was a whore and thus didn’t need to be eased in or anything like that, but that wasn’t what he was thinking about at all. Nothing was running through his mind other than the pressing need to make her his, to fuck her like she’d never been fucked and make absolutely sure that she knew who she belonged to.

Robb proved his point by driving his hips into her and fucking her with hard, deep thrusts that made her cute breasts bounce. He grabbed those bouncing tits and squeezed them possessively, hoping that he could leave his mark on them and claim them, since he was going to be the only man to touch them from now on.

Ros did not have any problem with any of it, with his possessive squeezing of her breasts or his rough fucking. She encouraged it throughout, wrapping her legs around his body and kicking at his ass with the heels of her feet as if to urge him to move even faster. It was a directive he was more than happy to obey.

“Yes, Robb!” she squealed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought his head down to hers so she could kiss him again. He met the kiss eagerly and shoved his tongue between her parted lips so he could mark her mouth as his just like every other part of her. That wasn’t enough for him though. He needed to claim every inch of her, and he’d been kissing her long enough already. So he broke away from her sweet mouth and kissed his way over to her neck instead. He kissed and sucked at her throat and the side of her neck, to which she simply groaned and caressed his hair some more.

Robb wasn’t concerned with trying to hold back or restrain himself in any way. Maybe before he’d entered this room he’d worried about whether or not he’d measure up and be good enough to please her, but such fears no longer existed in his mind. Now it was only about shoving his cock as deeply inside of her cunt as he could as fast as he could. This wasn’t just sex, and it wasn’t just him visiting a brothel so he could finally have his first time. This was him claiming this beautiful woman as his, and the surest way to do that was to mate her. He wanted to fill her with his seed, and he wanted to do so as quickly as possible.

His approach worked just fine for Ros, who was moaning and sobbing into his ear. The sounds were genuine, he knew. Of course she was a whore, and naturally whores put on a show for their paying customers and did whatever they needed to in order to make them feel good enough to hopefully come back for another round. But this wasn’t a whore putting on an act and crying out in a pleasure she didn’t actually feel. Ros was moaning because she loved his cock and couldn’t get enough of it, and she couldn’t wait for him to fill her with his seed. Her days of feigning enjoyment for paying customers were over, as was her time as a whore altogether. From this day forward she would spread her legs only for Robb Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. 

“I’m going to fill you up,” he groaned into her the side of her neck. He nipped her delicate flesh with his teeth, not hard enough to hurt her or to draw blood. He simply wanted to catch her attention. She gasped, so he kissed the spot he’d just nibbled on and then dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “I’m going to give you my seed. I’m going to fuck a baby into your belly.”

Though Robb had no real way of knowing it, this wasn’t the first time Ros had heard such talk. It wasn’t all that uncommon in her line of work. She tolerated it whenever it arose, accepting it as just another kink her paying customers had, a desire to be fulfilled in the name of earning their coin. So she’d always played along with such fantasies, knowing all the while that even if they did spend inside of her she would be sure to take moon tea so there would be no chance of the seed taking root.

There wouldn’t be any moon tea this time though, because this was no fantasy that Robb was paying her to fulfill. He meant his words in all seriousness. He’d come into this brothel for nothing other than a first sexual experience, a chance to work off some of the stress that came along with the responsibilities of being Lord of Winterfell. But it wasn’t a simple quick fuck that he’d found. Instead he’d found the only woman for him, the woman he was going to impregnate and make his. Ros knew it too. She could see the look in his eyes and hear the sincerity in his voice, and she knew that this was no fantasy. This was reality, and she felt it too. She felt it and embraced it.

“Yes!” She moaned, and her legs tightened around him as if she never wanted him to leave her, as if she wanted to make sure that he backed up his words and gave her his seed. “Do it! Fuck me, Robb! Fuck a baby into me!”

Robb pressed his body down tightly against her, rested his head next to hers and slammed his hips forward with force and intent. It was his first time, but he followed the instincts driving him. The heat flowing through him demanded that he fuck her to completion and shoot his seed inside of her, and his hips would not stop moving until he’d seen it through.

It was only a few minutes more before Robb’s body achieved the end that nature demanded of him. He stilled atop her and began to cum. Reflexively she squeezed him even tighter with her arms and her legs. Even if he’d somehow come to his senses and suddenly decided that this wasn’t proper, that he as the Lord of Winterfell shouldn’t be finishing inside of a brothel worker while openly talking about impregnating her, her arms and legs were locked so tightly around him that he probably wouldn’t have been able to pull his cock out in time to prevent it from happening.

There was no danger of that happening of course. None of this made any sense. Why would the Lord of Winterfell, who could have chosen his future bride from among the most influential and beautiful young highborn ladies throughout the North and beyond, instead seek a life with a whore from the town just outside of Winterfell? Robb would not have been able to explain it other than to say that nothing had ever felt more right to him in his life. She was his, and he was hers. There was no other woman for him, no other woman he would ever desire or wish to make his wife and father heirs with. Pulling his cock out of her wet, perfect cunt wasn’t even a consideration for him, not when he was so close to making it happen.

“Take it,” he groaned, keeping his hips pressed against her and his cock fully lodged in her cunt as his life-giving semen burst forth. “Take my seed, Ros.”

She moaned and panted into his ear while his cock shot her cunt full of seed, and it was only after his orgasm died down that her arms and legs finally relinquished their tight hold of him. He remained still on top of her for a few moments, desiring a continued physical closeness to this perfect woman, this whore who had stolen his heart and his devotion from the moment he’d opened the door and gotten his first glimpse of her, Eventually it became too much though, to be inside of her and on top of her while his cock wasn’t currently prepared to move inside of her and give her more seed.

He pulled out and rolled off of her, but not before planting a long, slow kiss on her lips. The kiss was a silent promise, his way of proving to her that his feelings and his overwhelming attraction to her had not died down in the slightest just because his first time was over. His lust for her had not been sated. If anything he desired her even more now. He couldn’t wait until his cock got hard again so he could give her a fresh load of seed to go along with the first. If he had his way, neither of them would be leaving this room until he was sure his job was done and she was now carrying a future Stark of Winterfell in her belly.

Noticing a flagon of wine on the table, he rolled off of the bed and rose to pour them both a cup. While his back was turned and he poured the wine, Ros spoke to him for what was really the very first time unless you counted her whispered _Oh_ when she first saw him or the noises she made during sex.

“There’s something I need to tell you, Robb.” He noticed again that she did not refer to him as ‘My Lord’, ‘Lord Stark’, or any of the other titles most used when they addressed him. For a woman of her status to address him so casually would have sparked outrage from most high lords, but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. She was to be his lady, after all.

“What is it, my love?” This was their first real conversation, and yet he was already using such terms of endearment. He knew this wasn’t normal; his parents had told him the story of their own marriage, and how it had taken time for love to grow between them. They’d married for duty and the love had come later, but for Robb the love had come at first sight. He did not question that or worry that this was all happening too fast. He embraced it, and considered himself fortunate to have found the one and only woman for him right outside of Winterfell.

“I’m not who you think I am,” she said.

“Oh?” He turned around to face her, a cup of wine in each hand, and returned to the bed. “And who are you then? Are you not Ros, who until today was the most sought-after woman in this brothel?” Had the proprietor sent him to the wrong woman by mistake? Well, no matter. He didn’t want her because of her name or her reputation. He wanted her, this beautiful redheaded woman who had so captivated him.

“No, I’m Ros,” she confirmed. She took the cup of wine he held out to her and drank nearly half of it in one big gulp. Judging by the slight shake in her hands he assumed it was out of nervousness. She feared his reaction to whatever she was about to tell him. “But there’s something about me you don’t know. Something that might change things, though I hope they won’t.”

“I’m listening,” he said patiently. He took a sip of his wine and waited for her to speak, not worried. It was impossible for him to imagine this perfect creature saying anything that would change how he felt about her or make him waver in his desire to make her his, from this day until his last day.

“Unlike most of the girls in this brothel, I know who my parents are. My mother was a whore just like me. But my father was Brandon Stark. Your uncle.”

“Ah.” Now he understood her hesitance. “So you’re my cousin then.” Traditionally marriage between cousins was not considered a problem in the Seven Kingdoms, certainly not like brothers marrying sisters or parents fucking children. But in the wake of the strange magic that had since been named the dragon’s wrath, his father Lord Eddard Stark had wanted to send a strong message that the Starks of Winterfell would not be infected by the same madness that had struck so many of the realm’s noble families. Thus he had vowed that not only would Starks not copulate with siblings or parents, but they would go a step further and no longer wed cousin to cousin either. He had declared so publicly for all to hear, and Ros had obviously heard it just as everyone else had.

This explained not only her fear of his reaction, but the _Oh_ she’d whispered when he first came into the room. She’d recognized him right away, and known him to be her cousin. She’d known of the curse, and of the statement his father had made and the steps he’d taken to prevent their family from falling victim to the magic. She’d known she shouldn’t copulate with him, but she had been unable to deny what she was feeling. The heat had coursed through her just as it had him, and she hadn’t been able to help herself from accepting his passion and returning it with her own.

Now Robb understood the instant, overpowering attraction he’d felt to her the moment he’d seen her too. It had been the Mad King’s magic at work, infecting the Stark line for the first time. Every other instance he’d heard of had involved siblings or parents and children being drawn together; this was the first time it had ever occurred between cousins as far as Robb was aware of. Perhaps that was the magic adapting to new circumstances and interpreting this as a suitable target because of Ned Stark’s previous declaration, which would be quite ironic. And then there was the added fact that he, the highborn Lord of Winterfell, was smitten with a whore. She might have been the daughter of Brandon Stark, he who would have been Lord of Winterfell instead of his younger brother Ned if the Mad King hadn’t killed him, but everyone else would immediately decry her suitability to marry him or carry his trueborn children. She was not only a bastard, but a whore as well! Ancient Maester Luwin was going to be most displeased when Robb told him of his plans, and he would be far from the only one. His vassals weren’t going to like this one bit. And Robb couldn’t have cared less. Even knowing what he knew now, knowing that he had been claimed by the dragon’s wrath, he didn’t regret it. Maybe he should have, but he was too far gone, too far under the spell’s pull and too inextricably tied to Ros to fight it now.

“Yes,” she said. She swallowed the rest of her wine and set the cup down. “I know what your lord father said and I know about the dragon’s wrath, and I know that what we just did went against what your father promised the people. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I couldn’t help myself.”

“I understand,” he said. “I couldn’t help myself either. I could no more stop my heart from beating than I could have stopped myself from rushing to you, even if I’d known who you were then.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Anyway, I know that what we did isn’t allowed, and if you change your mind now, I understand. If you didn’t mean what you said about having a baby with me, I can get some moon tea and make sure it doesn’t happen.”

That brought a glare from Robb. “Don’t even think of it. I meant what I said. You’re mine now. You’re going to leave this brothel with me tonight, and you’re never going to come back. Cousin or no, dragon’s wrath or no, you’re mine now, and no other man’s ever going to touch you again. You’re going to birth my heirs.”

“As what, your mistress?” Ros snorted and made to turn away from him. “Maybe your bannermen will be able to overlook me being your cousin, despite what your lord father promised. But none of them are going to accept a whore’s children as Starks, as lords and ladies of Winterfell.”

He carelessly tossed his half-full cup of wine aside and reached out to wrap his arms around her body before she could climb off of the bed. He couldn’t let her slip out of his grasp now, not when he was so close to making her his forever!

“I don’t give a damn what any of them think,” he said. “I am their lord; they will listen to me. There’s no one else for me anymore, Ros. Curse or no curse, I don’t give a damn anymore. You’re all mine now. You’re _mine_ , my cousin, my whore, my lover and my wife, and anyone who tries to take you away from me is going to have the winds of winter come for them much sooner than they’d like!”

“Robb,” she whispered, but he heard the longing and the desperation in her voice.

“You want it as much as I do,” he said softly, nuzzling her red hair from behind. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you don’t want to be my wife, tell me you’d rather stay here and keep working as a whore, and I will leave and never return.” He didn’t know if he would actually be able to honor that promise, because the thought of spending the rest of his life without her by his side, in his bed, raising their children and ruling the North together filled him with a physical pain that was greater than anything he’d felt since his father’s untimely death. Fortunately he knew that wasn’t a problem he would ever have to face. He felt the raw _need_ for her rushing through his veins, and if she was experiencing even an echo of that herself, there was no way she’d ever be able to refuse.

She moaned and relaxed in his arms, which was all the answer he needed. Robb rolled her onto her stomach and got on top of her, humping against her and sliding his cock against her cunt lips until he got hard again. He’d had a bit of time to recover, and now that they’d gotten everything out in the open and confirmed that neither of them were backing away from this or fighting against their feelings, he wanted nothing more than to fuck her for a second time.

He pushed his cock into her with one sharp thrust of his hips, and that was a preview of how this second encounter was going to go. Much like their first time, Robb fucked Ros with only one thing on his mind: breeding her. Maybe the first time had been enough to impregnate her, but he would be taking no chances. He was going to spill his seed inside of her again, and perhaps once more in his chambers back in Winterfell before the night was through. Then he would wake up in the morning, with her in his arms as she would be for every morning going forward, and immediately fuck her again. Robb would be fucking his new lady as early and as often as he could until he was absolutely certain she was carrying his child.

Robb did his best to plow her straight through the mattress. His hips pounded down into her, and the resounding slap of his hips smacking against her ass surely had to be audible well beyond the walls of the room. And that didn’t even take the creaking bed, his grunts or her ecstatic moans into consideration. The proprietor could likely hear them fucking, and perhaps Theon could too. Robb found himself hoping his friend could indeed hear everything that was happening right now. He could already anticipate the japes Theon would make about having bedded the new Lady of Winterfell before her husband ever got his hands on her, but any mockery from Theon would be greatly diminished if the Iron Islander could hear Robb fucking Ros right now. He might have fucked her first, but he’d never been able to claim her this hard or make her moan this loud. Maybe he and others had heard her pretend to enjoy herself while she tried to earn a bit of coin from them, but no one had ever given Ros such genuine pleasure.

He pushed down on Ros’ head, pressing her face against the pillow, but even that didn’t do much to muffle the loud, enthusiastic and lengthy scream she let out when his pounding cock made her see stars. Her body shivered and she tightened around him in pleasure, and that made his already dwindling time shrink down even more rapidly. After a few more thrusts he was there, pumping her cunt full of his cum for a second time. He felt like he was giving her even more seed this time around, maybe because she’d now acknowledged that she was his and his body was responding and rising up to reinforce that fact in the most obvious way possible, which was by getting her pregnant.

Robb would have been content to remain there like that for the rest of the night, his hips flush against his future bride’s ass as he pressed her down into the bed. Unfortunately the time eventually came for the proprietor to knock on the door and check on his top whore and the highest profile customer he had ever hosted.

“I’ll deal with this,” Robb whispered to Ros. She had been fucked so hard that she probably wouldn’t have been able to say or do much even if she’d needed to, so he planted a kiss on the back of her neck and left her face-down on the bed. He pulled his clothes back on and opened the door.

“Ah. Lord Stark!” Leo said, smiling when he saw him. “Since you didn’t require any further assistance from me, I trust Ros was to your liking?”

“Yes, very much so,” Robb said honestly. “You were right, my friend. Ros was the one for me.”

“Excellent!” the man beamed, thrilled that he’d been able to please the Lord of Winterfell himself. “Can I trust you will honor us with your patronage again in the future, then?” He rubbed his hands together, likely imagining all the profit to be made in the future, and not just from Robb himself. If word got out that Robb was a frequent visitor, it could only help the man’s business.

“I will not,” Robb said, shaking his head. The man’s face fell, so Robb decided to reassure him slightly. “I don’t think you need to worry about the popularity of your establishment though. You’re about to become the most famous brothel in all of Westeros.”

“Oh?” The man looked confused, but intrigued. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, my lord.”

“It’s simple, really. People are going to come from far and wide to pay a visit to this brothel once they hear that one of the girls became the Lady of Winterfell. They’ll come in hopes of finding such a lady for themselves, a lady so fair and perfect that she’s fit to marry a lord. They’ll come up short, of course, since no lady can compare to my true love.”

“D-do you mean Ros?” the man said, looking shocked. “You mean to marry her?!”

“Yes,” he said simply. “I know she’s your top earner, but don’t worry. I will be more than happy to pay you a handsome sum for your loss. I’ll give you as much as she would’ve made in an entire year, if you like.”

The man’s eyes glazed over, visions of gold and recognition dancing through his head, but Robb didn’t care about him.

“Here’s another night’s worth of payment,” he said, tossing some gold the man’s way. “I’m feeling up to having a third go at fathering the future Lord Stark.” He shut the door behind him and returned to the bed, pulling his clothing back off as he went. 


	2. All Grown Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya vows she won’t fall victim to the curse like her older brother, but Catelyn Stark is looking younger and more beautiful than ever. (Arya/Catelyn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings/Themes: Parent/child incest, Lactation

“We need to talk, Arya.”

Arya froze, cursing herself for not taking the other route out of the castle. If she’d done that she would have made it safely to the practice yard and could have snuck in some bow training. Instead she had not only been stopped, but had been stopped by the one person she least wanted to be alone with these days.

“Talk about what, mother?” she asked, only looking at Catelyn Stark over her shoulder for a moment before she whipped her head back around and looked straight ahead again. Looking at her mother for very long was dangerous these days. Arya knew what it meant, and was fighting against it with everything she had.

“You know what, Arya,” her mother said. “We’re being affected by the dragon’s wrath, just as your brother was.”

Arya kept her back turned and hugged her arms around her body, knowing that her mother was right. The Starks had been confident that their family hadn’t fallen under the curse the Mad King cast on the great houses as his final revenge, but then Robb had announced his intention to marry his cousin Ros, Brandon Stark’s bastard daughter. In that case the incest wasn’t as big a deal since plenty of other high lords and ladies had married their cousins (though Eddard Stark vowing his family would no longer do even that as a direct response to the emergence of the dragon’s wrath did make it sting a little more.) The bigger scandal had been Robb marrying a whore, and a baseborn whore at that. Women who had previously worked in brothels didn’t generally marry great lords and become the lady of a great house. Many had been upset, with the other northern houses who had been hoping to get their daughter in as his wife considering it an affront and an insult on their honor. It hadn’t led to outright rebellion or anything of the sort, but the northern families had less trust for the Starks than they’d had in many generations.

Arya had vowed that she would not suffer the same fate, that she would honor her late father’s promise and not be sucked into the curse. Even when she’d first started to notice her budding attraction to her mother she had resolved to ignore it. Unlike her stupid brother, she was strong enough to resist the curse!

“And so what if we are?” Arya said. “That just means we have to fight against it. We aren’t like Robb. We don’t have cocks that do our thinking for us.”

“I know you’re a strong-willed girl, Arya,” her mother said. Arya flinched as she heard Catelyn’s footsteps come closer, and gasped when her hands came down to rest on her shoulders. “But I think you know that’s not possible.”

“The hell it’s not!” Arya said, shaking her head angrily. “If I say I can ignore it, I can ignore it!”

“Really? Because if you’re even half as affected by this as I am, I believe it’s only a matter of time until the heat becomes too much for you to bear.”

“Don’t mock me, mother,” Arya growled. “We both know Sansa’s the beautiful one. I’m Arya Horseface.”

Catelyn’s hands squeezed her shoulders. “Is that how you see yourself?” she asked quietly. She leaned her head in so her face was right behind Arya’s ear. “Do you know what I see when I look at you?”

“What do you see?” Arya whispered against her better judgment. This could get very dangerous very quickly. She could feel the heat threatening to burst out of her as it was. If her mother said or did anything to inflame it further…

“I see a young woman who grew from a wild, skinny thing into a strong, beautiful woman. You might be more slender than Sansa, but never, _ever_ think that you aren’t beautiful. You’re so beautiful it’s distracting. I can’t get you out of my mind.” Her hands reached around Arya’s body to squeeze her small breasts through her jerkin. “I’ve spent so many hours trying not to think about what it would be like to play with your breasts like this.”

Arya bit her lip, not wanting to moan, not wanting her mother to hear how incredibly aroused she was. Catelyn didn’t stop there though. Her hands left Arya’s breasts and went down to rub across her belly, getting dangerously close to her crotch.

“Mother…we can’t,” Arya whined. Her voice lacked its usual heat, because a heat of a very different nature was draining all the fight out of her. She knew this was wrong, knew she shouldn’t ever think of her mother in this way, and knew that this was the dragon’s wrath at work. But she was beginning to finally understand why Robb had been so calm when he told them about the whore he was marrying. He’d known he had only fallen for Ros because of the curse, but he had seemed completely unbothered with that knowledge. Now she understood why. How could she reject this feeling? How could she ignore this heat? How could she rebuff her mother’s advances? She had never felt like this in her life.

“We _shouldn’t_ ,” Catelyn corrected her. “But that doesn’t mean we _won’t._ Damn the consequences, Arya.” She kissed Arya just below the ear, and then moved her lips over to kiss and lick at the back of her neck. Arya couldn’t completely contain her moan this time, so she threw her hand over her mouth to at least mute it as much as she could. “Damn what we should or shouldn’t do. I have to have you.” She spun Arya around by the shoulders, leaned in so close so their noses were nearly touching and looked into her eyes, Tully blue meeting Stark grey. Arya gasped at the longing and desire she could see in those deep blue eyes, and wondered if her mother could see something similar in hers. “Tell me you don’t feel the same.” 

It was only now that Arya realized she had not truly been under the full effects of the curse. What she’d been able to fight off before now had been merely an echo, a faint flicker of the heat that the curse filled its victim with when it was fully active and admittedly even suppressing that much had been difficult for her. In the face of this, not even the notoriously stubborn Arya Stark stood a chance. No wonder Robb had been so helpless, even knowing that marrying a whore would cause friction with basically every other northern house.

Arya had never been great with words. She had always preferred to let her actions speak for her, and that’s what she did here as well. Rather than telling her mother how she was feeling she threw her arms around her neck, leaned in and kissed her on the lips. They were soft; as soft as Arya had imagined they would be. That was something that had been on her mind constantly as of late, along with other things, like what she might look like naked and how it might feel to play with her breasts. A thousand thoughts like that had been running through Arya’s head on a loop recently, and now for the first time she didn’t try to push them back and didn’t try to fight her feelings. Arya Stark might be a fighter, but this was one fight she had lost. It was hard to feel like a loser right now though. It felt more like she’d won the biggest battle of her life, and was enjoying her hard-earned spoils of victory.

Catelyn returned the kiss with a passion that matched her on; she was just as afflicted by the curse, just as heated and filled with undeniable lust as her daughter was. The two Stark women stood there in the middle of the hallway that Catelyn had stopped Arya in, held each other tightly and kissed each other with a shocking urgency that blew away any of the awkward kisses Arya had shared with boys prior to today. They couldn’t get enough of each other, keeping their lips pressed together and getting their tongues in on the action too. Catelyn naturally had more experience at this and so Arya was content to let her lead the way. She willingly parted her lips when her mother’s tongue traced them, and moaned when that tongue entered her mouth. She did her best to return that passion, sucking on Catelyn’s tongue and holding her by her head, running her hands through her long red hair.

Arya would have been perfectly content to stand there in the hallway and make out with her new love for the rest of the day, but her mother had enough sense left to realize that this might not be the best idea.

“We should get out of the hall,” Catelyn said, somehow resisting her lust long enough to pull her tongue out of Arya’s mouth and issue that warning. It hadn’t occurred to Arya, nor did she care even now. Let all of Winterfell see them if that’s what happened. They would all know the truth about the deeper love they now shared soon enough anyway. But if Catelyn was worried about it then Arya would listen.

She moved her hands from her mother’s hair down to her ass, grabbing a firm hold of both cheeks and lifting her feet off of the ground. Catelyn whooped in surprise and wrapped her legs around her daughter’s waist.

“You’ve grown strong, Arya,” she remarked. “You’re not my little girl anymore, are you?” She sounded almost wistful when she said it, but Arya saw no reason for her to feel that way.

“No, I’m not,” she agreed. “I’m all grown up now.” She began to walk down the hall, holding onto her mother by her ass and carrying her towards the little-used storage room that was down near the end.

“Yes you are,” Catelyn said. “You’re not my little girl anymore. Now you’re my woman. My lover.” She went back to kissing Arya, who forced her feet to move faster. She couldn’t get her new lover into that room quickly enough for her liking.

They continued to kiss until Arya carried her mother towards the door. By a stroke of luck it had been left partially open, so Arya kicked it the rest of the way open and carried her mother inside without putting her down or breaking their kiss. She kicked the door shut behind her, pinned Catelyn against the wall and attacked her neck, licking and sucking and kissing her smooth skin. Her mother cooed and groaned at the attention, but eventually she’d had enough.

“Put me down, Arya,” she pleaded, running her hands through her brown hair and massaging her scalp. It wasn’t the first time she’d done that, but it felt different now. _Everything_ felt different now. “Please, put me down. I want to be able to touch you.”

As much as Arya was enjoying pinning her lover against the wall and ravaging her with her mouth, she would be a fool to say no to that proposition. She put Catelyn back on her feet but did not let go of her ass. She might not need it as a handhold anymore, but now she was simply groping it through the light gown she’d worn. It was far too flimsy for the weather in Winterfell, but perhaps she’d worn it to try and entice her daughter. It had certainly had that effect, whether she’d intended it or not.

Now Catelyn’s hands were free to explore Arya’s body as well, and she took full advantage of that opportunity. She took another brief grope of her small but perky little breasts as she had earlier, but quickly left her chest to explore new territory. She followed Arya’s lead by going straight for her ass. Arya’s hips and rear weren’t as round or full as Sansa’s, but she had a cute little butt that her mother had secretly been admiring and now openly squeezed. She didn’t have Sansa’s curves, but she had grown up to be a beautiful woman all her own with a lithe, pleasing shape.

Arya’s hands left her mother’s ass at last, but that was only so she could reach up and grab her breasts through her thin gown. Catelyn moaned at the attention and put her hands on top of Arya’s, encouraging her to squeeze them harder.

“Do you like them, Arya?” she asked. “Do they feel good?”

“Yes,” she blurted out right away. “So good. _So good._ I want to feel them more.”

“Then feel them,” Catelyn said. “Pull my gown down. Feel them for yourself, without any clothing in the way.”

She’d barely even finished her sentence before Arya’s hands were pulling her thin gown off of her shoulders and past her breasts. She groaned when she saw her mother’s breasts, round and full and perfect. Arya’s hands returned to her now bare chest in record time. Amazingly, they felt even better than they looked.

“I’m so glad you like them,” Catelyn said through her moans as Arya squeezed her breasts and rolled them around in her hands. She was unused to breasts this large and was sating her curiosity in how they would feel. “They’ve gotten perkier recently, which has to be a result of the curse I’m sure. They’re as firm as they were when I first got married, before I got pregnant with Robb. The rest of my body too; it’s like the magic of the curse has de-aged my body over twenty years, all to make me a more attractive mate for a pretty young woman like you.”

“It worked,” Arya said, missing Catelyn’s amused smile because she couldn’t look away from her breasts. She’d definitely noticed the changes in her mother; they’d been hard to miss. None of her siblings had commented on them, but Robb and his new wife rarely left their bedchamber, Bran was focused on training to become a knight and Sansa was too busy dreaming of being allowed to finally move south and find a young, handsome southron lord to marry. They’d all missed the changes that had taken shape in their mother, but Arya hadn’t missed a single one. Rather than looking like mother and daughter, they could have more easily passed for sisters (or lovers, more accurately.)

“If you like squeezing my breasts so much, I wonder how much you’ll like this.” Catelyn pulled Arya’s hands off of her breasts but then grabbed her by the head and pulled her face into her cleavage. Arya suddenly found her face buried in soft flesh. She had the idle thought that she had nursed at these same breasts when she was young, but that idea didn’t shut her lust down as she logically knew it should. It only made everything hotter and more exciting, showing just how thoroughly she had been swept into the curse’s control. She knew that, and couldn’t have cared less at that point.

Following her instincts and desires, Arya opened her mouth and began to suck at her mother’s breast, just as she had when she was much younger. First she sucked on the flesh itself, and then, after it was shiny and wet, she popped her nipple into her mouth and began to suck on it. Sucking on a woman’s teats wasn’t something she’d ever thought she would do again as an adult, and with her own mother no less, but now she couldn’t imagine not doing this repeatedly from this day forward. Catelyn apparently felt the same way because her hands threaded through her hair and stroked it softly.

“Yes, baby, yes!” Catelyn moaned. “Suck on them! Suck on them, just like you used to! They’re all for you now, not Robb, or Sansa, or Bran and Rickon! They’re all yours now! _I’m_ all yours now!”

Arya very much liked the sound of that, and she demonstrated it by moaning around her lover’s nipple and sucking harder. She would soon be moaning for a different reason, because something happened that neither of them had been expecting. Catelyn hadn’t produced milk in many years, not since Rickon had been nursing, but now Arya felt a rush of liquid burst into her mouth. The two lovers looked into each others’ eyes, sharing in their mutual surprise.

“I-I’m sorry, Arya. I didn’t know that would happen.” Catelyn looked nervous, as if she was worried Arya would be disgusted. It was absolutely ridiculous, and Arya proved it to her by staying in place and continuing to suck until she’d drank her fill. Only then did she pull her mouth off of her mother’s nipple and grin at her.

“Never apologize for that,” Arya said. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “That was delicious. It was the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” That wasn’t an exaggeration. This wasn’t ordinary milk that Catelyn had unexpectedly produced. It wasn’t a widely known aspect of the curse, but in order to overcome any potential inhibitions and enhance the lust between family members, women who had previously given birth would lactate again if their new lover sucked on their nipples. Rather than sucking down standard breast milk though, they would instead find their mouths filled with a special milk, sweet and laced with a unique sort of aphrodisiac. Anyone who tasted it would be driven insane with lust and find themselves even more deeply obsessed with their new lover. Arya had already been lost to the curse. She’d already accepted her fate as her mother’s lover and everything that would come with it, but now it was just solidified even more. Now she couldn’t wait to get her mother’s clothes off, to get her own clothes off, to make love to her as soon as possible. She would’ve attacked her right out in the open if they’d still been out in the hall, but since Catelyn had the foresight to get them moving, there was no one who could wander in and see mother and daughter stripping each other out of their clothes.

They began to kiss and grope again once they were nude, and it felt so much better now that there was nothing but bare skin to explore. Arya’s hands went to her mother’s naked ass, which thanks to the curse was now as lovely and firm as it had ever been. Catelyn, meanwhile, couldn’t seem to decide whether she wanted to squeeze her daughter’s breasts, rub her back or fondle her ass, so she did all of those things one after the other.

The kissing and touching and groping was nice, but they’d both been doing that long enough by now that they were ready for something else, something more. Their lust and the heat flowing through them demanded that they express their newfound attraction to each other in the most explicit manner they could.

Catelyn maneuvered Arya in her arms, bringing her backwards until her back hit the wall. Then the redhead dropped to her knees, spread Arya’s legs apart with her hands and brought her face in to kiss her directly on the cunt.

“ _Oh!_ ” Arya cried out immediately and dropped her hands onto her mother’s head. Arya had never gone beyond a few fumbling kisses with boys around Winterfell, but her new lover’s mouth between her legs was something else entirely. She wondered if her mother had ever done this before with a previous female lover. Maybe she’d relied on a female bed warmer to comfort her while her husband was off at war? Or maybe this was her first time with a girl just like it was for Arya, and she was going purely on instinct and letting her lust guide her? Whatever the case may be, it felt amazing. Catelyn’s tongue took long, flat vertical licks of her cunt, and her fingers rubbed at Arya as well. It was great, but the position didn’t seem to work all that well and let Catelyn do everything that she could do.

The elder Stark had the same thought and went about solving it. She put her hands on Arya’s tight ass and held on. “Put your legs on my shoulders,” she said. Arya happily complied, lifting first one leg and then the other onto her mother’s shoulders. That left it up to Catelyn and the wall to keep Arya upright, but the wall’s solidity and her mother’s steady grip on her ass made sure that she wasn’t going anywhere.

Now Catelyn was able to bury her face in closer and give Arya a more thorough licking. Whether the daughter of Hoster Tully had ever practiced this with a girl back in Riverrun or not, she threw plenty of passion into everything that she was doing. Her lips, tongue and fingers all worked Arya over, pleasing her cunt and her hard little nub, and she also rubbed her face from side to side, brushing her cheeks and nose against her younger lover. It was all so much, and Arya very quickly found herself being worked towards a powerful finish. This was it; this was what she’d been fighting against for so long. How stupid she’d been! How could she have ever thought this was something she could or should deny? This was the greatest moment of her entire life!

Her hips wiggled and shook against her mother’s tongue as it circled around her cunt, and her nose as it pressed against her clitoris. She wanted to tell Catelyn how great it felt, wanted to plead with her not to stop, now or ever, but all she could manage were desperate, high-pitched moans that sounded far more feminine and erotic than anything Arya had thought she was capable of. Catelyn understood though. She understood what her daughter needed and sought to give it to her as any good mother or lover would do.

Arya came with a cry, having to put one of her hands over her mouth so she wouldn’t scream so loud that someone would come running to see what had happened. She’d gotten herself off before, but that was nothing compared to this. Her fingers couldn’t hope to bring anywhere near the pleasure that Cat brought to her with her lips, tongue, cheeks, fingers and nose. She’d used absolutely everything she could to bring Arya as much pleasure as she possibly could, and it had resulted in incredible success and a feeling that the younger Stark daughter would never forget. She could only hope that it was not a fluke, that Catelyn could bring her this same kind of ecstasy in the future. That no one else would be able to do so didn’t even need to be acknowledged in her mind. Catelyn Stark, formerly Catelyn Tully, was the only lover Arya would ever need or want for the rest of her life. The Mad King might have been a murdering prick, but at the moment Arya couldn’t hate him. He’d given her the greatest gift of her life.

“Did you enjoy that, sweet girl?” Catelyn asked, after Arya’s body had relaxed and her feet were back on solid ground. Normally Arya hated such flowery terms of endearment. That was for Sansa, not her. She was the fighter, the strong one, the one who would rather be holding the “needle” Jon Snow gave her before he went north to The Wall than the needle Sansa was so proficient with. But right now, hearing that term of affection from this woman who she now loved in a way she had never loved another person filled her with joy. She smiled, dropped down to join Catelyn Stark on her knees and kissed her on the lips.

“I enjoyed it more than anything else I’ve ever felt,” she said. She kissed her again, and then again, each kiss lasting longer and longer. While kissing Catelyn she pushed her weight into her and got her down flat on her back, and then she scooted to get down on her belly between her legs. “Now I want to make you feel the same way.” She spread Catelyn’s legs, dove in face-first and went to work.


	3. The Lady and Her Knight (Bran/Sansa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For reasons he doesn’t understand, Bran wakes up in the middle of the night and goes to the godswood. He realizes he’s not alone, and then he understands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings/Themes: Sibling incest

Bran Stark wasn’t sure why he woke in the middle of the night. Usually he was a sound sleeper, especially when he trained as hard as he had in the yard today. He was of an age and ready to assume the responsibilities of a man, and since his brother Robb was settling into his role as the new Lord of Winterfell (despite the controversy that remained thanks to his unpopular choice of wife), Bran would be heading south to pursue his dream of knighthood.

It wasn’t thoughts of learning under Barristan the Bold that moved Bran’s feet tonight though. For reasons he couldn’t understand, he found himself padding towards the godswood. He was no stranger to the area; he often prayed to the old gods, and had been doing so even more often since his father has passed. But he’d never felt the urge to visit the godswood in the middle of the night until now. It was as if invisible hands were pushing him forward, guiding him towards his fate.

It made no sense for him to be walking towards the hot springs in the middle of the night, yet that’s where his feet unconsciously took him. He stopped up short when he realized that another resident of Winterfell had also come to the godswood in the middle of the night and was bathing in the hot springs. The instant he saw just who was bathing in the middle of the night he realized why his feet had brought him here.

He’d always thought his sister Sansa was beautiful. Back when they were young they’d played at her being the kidnapped damsel and him being the gallant knight who would save her, usually with Robb or their half-brother Jon playing the villain that Bran would inevitably defeat. She’d always thanked her savior with a kiss on the cheek. It had been an innocent game back then, but Bran’s thoughts were anything but innocent now.

As beautiful as Sansa had been as a girl, she was even more stunning now as a woman grown. Bran stared at her womanly body revealed to him in all its glory for the first time, and despite knowing full well he should look away, he was transfixed. Her breasts were large and firm and looked good enough to taste, and her hips were nice and wide, perfect for bearing children. _His_ children.

It was pure madness to even think it, much less to act on it, and Bran recognized that he'd been hit by the dragon's wrath as surely as first his older brother Robb and cousin Ros and then his mother and other sister Arya had been, but that knowledge didn't fill him with fear or disgust. It was certainty that filled him instead, certainty that his purpose was not to train hard, go south and become a knight that they composed ballads for him. No, in that moment Bran knew that the fondest desire in his life was to fuck his sister, to breed her, give her his seed and put a babe in her belly. He hurried to pull his nightclothes off so he could join her in the bathing pool.

The sound of his clothing hitting the floor alerted Sansa to his presence, and she whirled around in fright to face him.

"Bran?!" she shrieked. "What are you doing?! Go away this instant, or I'll--"

Bran said nothing. He didn't need to. As soon as Sansa saw his cock she stopped speaking and stared at it, her mouth hanging open in surprise. She could now see for herself that just as she had grown up, so had he. He wasn't the boy who had played games with her any longer; he was a man now, with a man's body and a man's appetite, and if he had anything to say about it he was going to be _her_ man. And as he watched her take in his cock, and her dripping, flawless pale skin grew flushed and her wet pink nipples pebbled, he knew that she had reached the same conclusion he had. The curse had done its work on her as well, and the same heat, the same primitive need to breed that led him to frantically pull off his clothes had taken hold of her too. 

She was there to meet him with outstretched arms as soon as he stepped into the water, and their lips met with a fevered, desperate hunger. He wrapped his arms around her wet body and pulled her to him. When they were kids he’d been short enough that she had to bend down to kiss him on the cheek, but now he was a man grown and it was actually Sansa looking up at him as they kissed.

It wasn’t just his height or his cock that marked him as a man now. He also had a man’s desires, and he did not pass up on the opportunity to run his hands down his sister’s wet back and grab two handfuls of her pert ass. He squeezed her cheeks in his hands, claiming his hero’s reward for real.

Sansa welcomed it. She returned his kiss with just as much passion and heat, and her own hands were not passive. She rubbed at his back and then reached her hands between their bodies and down to his groin. Both hands wrapped around his thick cock and stroked down the shaft.

“ _Mmn_ , you’re so hard,” she gasped, breaking her lips away from his. He missed her kiss, but attached his lips to the side of her neck instead.

“All for you,” he whispered. “It’s all yours, Sansa.”

“Ooh, I like the sound of that.” She continued to pump his shaft with one hand while the other went lower and rubbed his balls. “You’re mine, little brother, aren’t you? You’re my gallant knight, just like in the songs.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “I’m your knight, and you’re my princess.”

“I’m not a princess,” she reminded him while playing with his cock and balls in her hands. “Just a lady. I’ll never be a princess now, not once I have your babes.” She didn’t say _if_. She stated as a fact, as if her giving birth to her brother’s children was a foregone conclusion at this point. That was good, because it was. He would never let anyone else have her, not even if the King of Westeros himself rode into Winterfell and asked for her hand. She was his now.

“You’re _my_ princess,” he said stubbornly, giving her ass a firm squeeze with both hands. “You’re prettier than any southron princess in King’s Landing or anywhere else. They’d crown you the queen of love and beauty at all their tourneys if you ever went to one.”

“But I won’t,” Sansa said quickly. “I don’t care about going south anymore. I’m going to stay here with you.” It was a dramatic shift for Sansa. All she’d been able to talk about for years was moving south and marrying a handsome knight, or maybe even a prince. She’d always been fascinated with the songs and the stories, much like Bran had felt the pull to be a revered knight like Barristan the Bold or Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. But just as those dreams of knighthood had already faded from Bran’s mind, so too was Sansa discarding her desire to become a lady of the south. Such was the power of the curse. Both Stark siblings were so quickly dismissing the things they’d wanted for so long, and all so they could stay here and be with each other. And they were doing it all with smiles on their faces, love in their hearts and lust driving their bodies forward.

“Yes,” Bran agreed. “We don’t need the south. We don’t need castles or knighthoods. All we need is each other. All I need is you, waiting for me in my bed every night for the rest of my life.”

“Every night,” Sansa agreed. “In bed, or right here in the pools,” She hopped up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. Bran was ready and waiting to catch her. He held her up by the ass and rubbed his cock against her. She was now right there for him, so close that he would barely even need to move his hips at all to be inside of her.

“I need to fuck you, Sansa,” he said. “I need to fuck you so bad!”

“Do it!” she urged him. Her beautiful Tully blue eyes looked him in the face, and he saw the same hunger in her eyes that he felt himself. “Fuck me! Fuck me, Bran!”

Bran nudged his cock forward, and they groaned in unison as he penetrated her. Even though his goal had always been knighthood, Bran was still a young man with urges like any other man. Of course he’d wondered what it might feel like to be inside a woman, but he couldn’t have ever imagined the reality. He didn’t know whether all women felt like this or if it was just his beautiful sister, but the moment he entered her he knew that he had made the right choice when he gave in to his desires, as if there had ever been a choice in the first place. Being inside of Sansa brought him a joy that he wouldn’t feel if he won a thousand tourneys and became the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

He sank into her eagerly, not wanting to wait another second to start fucking his sister for real. He did pause and stop short when he felt his path being blocked. He knew what that meant. Sansa’s maidenhead was there, protecting her chastity and trying to keep her eligible to marry a highborn southron lord and bear his children. In spite of his desperate need to claim her for himself, he paused uncertainly.

“Keep going, Bran,” Sansa said. Her heels nudged his ass, trying to get him to start moving again. “Claim my maidenhead! Make me yours, your woman, from this day until my last day!”

Whatever weak hesitance and doubt Bran had were eliminated forever when he heard those words from his beautiful sister turned lover. He got moving again, and his cock pierced her maidenhead. Sansa hissed as her virginity was torn away, and Bran looked up at her in concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Should I wait?” Waiting was the absolute last thing in the world he wanted to do. He wanted to move, to fuck her and never stop fucking her, not until she was pregnant with his child, and maybe not even then. Her cunt felt beyond incredible. If this was what Robb had felt when he met his bastard cousin turned whore turned wife, Bran couldn’t blame him for marrying her no matter what the maesters said. He doubted it could have been this good though, because there was no way Ros or anyone else could possibly feel as perfect as Sansa did around his cock. But no matter how much he wanted to breed her, to stick his cock as deep inside of her as it would go and fuck her as fast as he could until she took his seed, he wouldn’t move a muscle until she was ready for it. She wasn’t just a warm hole for him to fuck, a woman to pop out his children. She was his sister turned his lover, and she was the most important person in his life. She was his, his princess, his lover, the future mother of his children and the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. She was his Sansa, and he would give her whatever she needed even if his own instincts were screaming at him to fuck her and fuck her hard.

“No,” Sansa said. “Don’t stop. I’m tired of waiting. I want you. I want you to fuck me, Bran! Please, fuck me! Breed me!”

To Bran’s ears, they were the sweetest words he’d ever heard. He stopped worrying about Sansa’s comfort and started to focus on fucking her, sliding his cock all the way inside of her and then pulling back out. There wasn’t any trace of gentle, compassionate lovemaking now that his initial concerns were gone. Now he was giving in to the heat and doing as nature demanded of him, which was fucking Sansa hard and fast so he could breed her.

Not many people had their first times in the hot springs of Winterfell, but Bran wasn’t at all affected by fucking in the water. He held Sansa just above the water and thrust into her, and their fucking caused the water to ripple all around them. Sansa held onto him tightly, her legs around his waist and her arms crossed behind his neck as she urged him on.

“Oh, gods, it feels so good, Bran!” she said. “You feel so good inside of me!”

“It feels amazing for me too,” he said. There was no way this felt as good for her as it did for him. No one in Westeros had ever experienced this level of pleasure before, he was sure of it. Her cunt was nice and tight around him, like her body was trying to milk his seed out of him as quickly as it could, wanting him to breed her as badly as he wanted it. He squeezed her ass in both hands and kept hammering into her, unknowing and uncaring of how soon he’d finish and whether or not she would join him. Even if she didn’t have an orgasm this time, she’d just get there the next time. It wasn’t going to be long before he was ready to fuck her for a second time. Hopefully he’d even be able to manage a third before he went back to bed.

They stood there in the hot springs of Winterfell, Bran holding onto Sansa’s ass and fucking into her with an almost bestial intensity. The elder Stark sister was not afraid of the rough way that her brother pounded into her. She welcomed it and encouraged it every step of the way, constantly pleading for more, begging him to keep fucking her and never stop.

“Fuck, yes, fuck me, Bran!” she shouted. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! Breed me! Breed me! Yes, fuck, _yes_!”

It was bizarre to hear his sister talk this way. Arya, sure, but never prim, proper, courteous, well-behaved Sansa. Septa Mordane would have been shocked if she could see her prize pupil now, because Sansa was anything but a proper lady now. She’d shed that part of her the moment she’d seen Bran’s cock, and he doubted she would stop cursing and shouting for more even if her septa walked in right that moment. She was lost to this now, and so was he. His fate had been sealed as soon as he saw her perfect, nude, wet body washing in the hot spring, and now he was going to go even further by spilling his seed inside of his sister. It was such an enormous taboo, and yet he could not wait to cross that line from which there would be no return. Any moment now he was going to finish, he was going to do his best to knock his sister turned lover up the very first time he fucked her. And if it didn’t happen this time, there was nothing to worry about. There was always the next time, and the time after that, and the time after that.

“I’m going to cum in you now, Sansa,” he said. It wasn’t a warning; there was no need for such things, not for them. It was a declaration. They could both feel what was coming, they could both feel the heat leading them towards this inevitable ending, and now it was time for them both to embrace it.

“Yes, Bran!” Her feet kicked at his ass as if she was on her back and paddling in the water. “Do it! I want your seed! Give it to me! Yes, yes! Breed me, little brother! Make me yours! _Breed me!_ ”

Bran was more than happy to listen to that command. He kept pumping his hips against her until his cock twitched and he began to fill her up. She looked straight into his eyes and moaned when she felt his seed enter her, and he couldn’t resist capturing her sweet lips in a kiss. There they remained, Bran standing in the hot springs and holding Sansa in his arms, kissing her lips and filling her with his seed.

He would’ve been content to hold her like that forever, but he knew there were more important things to do. Once he was done filling her up he pulled his cock out of her and adjusted her in his arms so he was now cradling her shoulders and legs. He carried her out of the water and set her back down on her feet, and she thanked him with another kiss. The heat had not died down within him, and that kiss told him that Sansa felt the same. This wasn’t a slow, soft kiss that lovers might share after they’d exhausted their bodies and sated their desires. This was a hot, forceful, demanding kiss. Sansa knew there was still work to be done. They had a babe to put in her belly, and stopping after just one squirt of seed would have been foolish indeed.

Sansa did her best to get him ready for that second attempt. While continuing to kiss him, her hands returned to his cock, stroking his length and rubbing his balls much as she had earlier on. It felt nice, but they both realized that there were probably ways to speed this along faster. Sansa broke the kiss and went to her knees in front of him. Bran watched, highly aroused, as his sister held his cock in her hand and popped it into her mouth.

He’d heard Robb and Theon talking about this sort of activity before, back when the heir to the Iron Islands was bragging to his then-virginal friend about what he’d gotten up to at the Winter town brothel, but Bran had assumed then that only whores would do such a thing. Even if he’d taken his focus off of his aspirations of knighthood long enough to consider what it might be like to have sex, he never would have imagined that any highborn lady would do such a thing. But now here he was, having his cock sucked in the Winterfell godswood by his own older sister, who happened to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen or ever would see. Her lips slid down his cock as best they could, and though Bran didn’t know it at the time, this was actually going to get much, much better over the years as Sansa got more experience at sucking his cock. But even this first time felt pretty fucking amazing for him, as her enthusiasm made up for whatever lack of experience or technique might otherwise hold her back. Not to mention the simple eroticism of it, that it was his sister turned lover that was on her knees in front of him and sucking his cock. It took little time for her to get him hard and ready to go again. Part of him would have liked her to keep on going and swallow his seed down her throat, but that sort of thing would have to wait for later. They had a job to do, and until they’d done it there was only one place for his seed to go. 

She pulled her mouth off of his cock and rolled over onto her hands and knees, and Bran quickly got down behind her. His hands went to her wide hips and he rubbed his cock, now fully hard once again, against her cunt lips. He took just a moment to admire her beautiful body down on all fours for him, but even that brief pause was too long for Sansa.

“Don’t tease me!” she pleaded, looking back over her shoulder at him. “Don’t keep me waiting, Bran! Put it back in! Fuck me again!”

Bran nodded, aimed his cock at her opening and pushed back inside of her. Their fucking was no less urgent or frenzied just because he’d already seeded her once. If anything he took her even harder this time. There was no maidenhead to worry about at the beginning, no concerns about her comfort or anything of the sort, and no stopping to marvel at being inside of her for the first time. This was only his second time inside of her, but already her cunt was starting to feel like it was where he belonged. He drove his cock into her like he owned her, and in a sense that was fitting because it was true. He owned her body and her soul, just as she had the same claim on him.

Having her down on her hands and knees like this was perfect. He was fucking her like a beast, like a wild, rutting animal, and that’s exactly what she and the curse had reduced him to. He’d set aside all that he once was, forgotten about his silly previous dreams of knighthood and committed himself to his new life of fathering bastard children with his beautiful older sister. 

Sansa’s mind had been similarly altered. This was where she belonged. It wasn’t in a great castle of the south, marrying a high lord or even a prince and giving birth to children who would inherit lordships or thrones. It was here, down on her hands and knees and getting pounded from behind by her own brother. She proved it by keeping her hands planted on the ground and shoving her hips back to meet his, answering his thrusts with some backward ones of her own.

Their wet bodies smacked together, the sound of hips bouncing off of ass joining together with Bran’s grunts and Sansa’s extremely unladylike curses to ring in their new union. Bran hadn’t thought about it earlier, but this was the perfect place for them to realize where they truly belonged and commit themselves to each other. As they fucked in the middle of the godswood, it felt like they were announcing their love and their union in front of the old gods themselves. They would never be allowed to marry according to the laws of the realm of Westeros, but who needed a septon or a ceremony to declare their love? This, Bran fucking and hopefully impregnating his sister while the heart trees stood silent witness, felt like a far more powerful statement.

Bran pulled one of his hands off of Sansa’s hip and gave her pale ass a swat. He liked the way it jiggled, so he repeated it across the other cheek. Sansa hadn’t been spanked since she was a child, but she didn’t hate it.

“Yes, Bran, spank me! Spank me, fuck me, breed me! Do whatever you want to me; I’m yours! Please, keep going, my love, my knight!”

He did exactly that. He kept spanking her ass and thrusting his hips against her, and apparently the combination of the two was enough to set her off. She screamed louder than ever, letting him know beyond any doubt that she was cumming. Without really thinking about it, he pulled the hand that had been spanking her around and stuck his index finger between her lips. She quickly sealed them shut and sucked on his finger while her body trembled.

It didn’t take long for Bran to join her after that. He came with a roar that fit the beast he had become, and filled her up with a rush of semen that more than measured up to his first. If the first time hadn’t gotten her pregnant, maybe that would have done the trick. And if not, that was no problem. He was going to move Sansa into his bedchamber that very day, and he would keep fucking his lover every single night until her belly quickened with the first of many bastards she was going to give him.


	4. A True Dragon (Rhaella/Viserys)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aerys did not limit his focus to only the families that had rebelled against him. His own family was affected by the curse as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings/Themes: Mother/son incest

The wrath of Aerys Targaryen had not been limited to the families that had rebelled against him. It could in fact be argued that he had saved the worst cruelty for his own family. His sister turned wife Rhaella was tasked to redeem herself for what he had decided were her repeated failures to birth him more children. His curse would force her to make up for her failures by restarting the Targaryen line after he was gone. With the curse affecting her there was only one male she would be permitted to do that with or even desire to do that with, and that was their lone surviving son Viserys.

The curse would not allow Viserys to breed her until he had grown from a boy into a man, but that had only made it tougher for Rhaella. It had taken hold of her years earlier, preventing her from seeking out the company of any man while she raised Viserys and young Daenerys in Essos. Eventually all three of them had secured sellsword armies and sailed to retake Dragonstone. It had been easier than expected, since Stannis Baratheon had fallen victim to the curse himself. The man with a reputation for stubborn determination had laid down his arms and surrendered without much of a fight. Apparently holding onto his seat had not been as important to him as continuing to sleep with his big-breasted cousin.

The curse had been active within Rhaella for years, not only turning her away from the idea of accepting any male suitors but making sure her body would be in prime position for her son once he was of an age to breed her. The aging process had frozen, if not actually reversed. Her hips were wider, her breasts remained large and firm and constantly refilled with milk that would eventually be used to nurse the as-yet unborn Targaryen heirs. The biggest change of all might have been her fertility. Where previously she had struggled to conceive and then lost eight children either during pregnancy or within a year of their birth, now she was extremely fertile. Any man who would cum inside of her would impregnate her without question. But she didn’t want any man. Her body and her womb were only for her son.

It was once they retook Dragonstone that the curse began to drastically change Rhaella’s mind. She’d recognized what was happening years earlier, but now it shifted from an intellectual understanding that she was under the hold of the curse to an undeniable need to be bred. She wanted cock, needed a strong, virile man to fuck her, give her his seed and give her the first of many new Targaryen princes and princesses she would birth, but she didn’t want just any cock or just any man’s seed. Only one man’s cock would do, and that cock belonged to her sole surviving son, now a fully grown, strong, handsome man. Being bred by her son was all she could think about, and it became her sole mission in life.

The seduction attempts had started. She was a constant presence at her son’s side as he settled into his new role as the King on Dragonstone. Her old dresses and gowns had been discarded and replaced by clothing that would have been more appropriate on a brothel worker than a former (and future) queen. She never missed an opportunity to flaunt her breasts around him, and her hugs were no longer filled with motherly affection but instead with a woman’s desire. Now her body lingered, and her hands touched him as much as she could get away with. She knew she was driving him crazy and changing the way he thought about her, but it seemed the curse had not fully affected him yet. That just meant she would need to take even more drastic action and be even more forward. That he continued to resist what he was feeling made her want him even more. It just showed how strong a man her son had become. Strong, virile and just what she needed. Now it was time for her to claim him and take her place at his side, not as his mother but as his lover, his queen, and the mother of his many children.

“Viserys? Are you busy?” She poked her head through the crack in the door of his private bedchamber and saw him hunched over his desk and staring at maps. She didn’t need to ask what his purpose was. While all of her recent attention had been on claiming her place at her son’s side and in his bed, his had been on figuring out how to reclaim King’s Landing and the Iron Throne that Aegon the Conqueror had forged for himself and his heirs to rule from.

“Just trying to decide on the best plan of attack,” Viserys said. “But never mind that now. I always have time for you, mother.” He turned his chair away from his desk and turned it to face her instead.

“Such a sweet boy,” she said, smiling and entering the room. “Would you mind sending your guard away? I’d like to speak with you privately.” She didn’t actually care whether his guards did or did not know; everyone would find out eventually. She was going to be his queen, after all. But she reasoned that he might be more resistant right now if anyone else was around, so she needed him by himself.

“If you wish,” he said, shrugging. His guards nodded and left the room, and she closed and then locked the door behind them. Now it was just the two of them, alone in his bedchamber. It was time for her to make her move. “So what did you need?” he asked, watching her as she walked into the room and towards him.

“It’s not about what I need,” she said softly. “It’s about what you need, and what I’m here to give you.”

“Are you going to give me more troops, ships, gold or a less-defended path to King’s Landing?” he asked, smiling at her. “Because that’s what I need most right now.”

“I disagree,” she said, shaking her head. “You need all of those things, but there’s something you need even more.” She slid into his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. His lips opened up in a gasp, and she took advantage of the chance to shove her tongue into his mouth and turn this into a full-blown make out. He was too surprised to respond at first, but that wasn’t a problem as far as she was concerned. He might not be returning her kiss or moving his hands against her, but he wasn’t resisting or trying to pull her off of him either. He wasn’t doing anything to stop her from kissing him, shoving her tongue down his throat and wiggling against his cock through his breeches, and that was all she required right now. 

“Mother…what..??” He looked at her in shock when she pulled her mouth off of his, but she saw the lust in his purple eyes as well. He was confused and fighting against something he’d been told was wrong, but he could feel the attraction as surely as she could. That meant this was going to work. He was going to be hers, and she was going to be his. She just needed to take advantage of this opportunity, while she had him alone and in a daze, and make him see everything she could give him.

“What you need is a good woman at your side,” she purred, sliding out of his lap and down onto her knees in front of him. “A woman who can look after you and take care of you, like I’ve been doing all along, but more than that too.” She undid his breeches and began to pull them down his legs, which he did not help with but did not stop either. It was a slow process, trying to tug them down his legs while he sat there stiffly, but she was too determined to let anything stop her now. “You need a woman who can make you happy, warm your bed and give you children.” The breeches were down around his ankles, which was good enough for now. She dealt with his underwear next, and that came down much more easily. “You need a queen, and you need a woman who loves you more than anything.” She wrapped her hand around his cock, which looked as big and beautiful as she’d always imagined it would be. “Fortunately for you I’ve been both of those things for longer than you’ve been alive.”

She kissed the tip of his cock and slowly stroked his shaft with her hand, feeling it grow hard in her grip. Once he was fully hard she gave his cockhead a smooch, took it between her lips and began to suck.

Rhaella had done this for his father before, but it had never been something she enjoyed back then. It was different now though, now that it was her beloved’s cock between her lips. She was happy to suck on Viserys’ cock, happy to show him the love and devotion that he deserved. He was a king, with a king’s concerns and a king’s responsibilities only recently thrust upon him, and he also had to deal with trying to retake the capital. Her strong man had so much to deal with, but she could help him take his mind off of his duties and give him something to look forward to every night.

She knew how to do this well, how to make a man feel good and bring him pleasure, and she was happy to show Viserys everything that she’d learned. Her lips slid up and down his cock and she shook her head from side to side, moaning and slurping lewdly to let him know just how much she loved being on her knees for him. She’d never shown such passion while sucking a cock, but then she’d never enjoyed sucking a cock either until this very moment. She wasn’t trying to make him cum as quickly as she could to get this over with; she was sucking him off because she wanted to, and she wanted to savor it for as long as she could.

Rhaella could tell when Viserys was getting close to finishing inside of her mouth, and she knew she needed to take action. As much as she would have loved to keep sucking his cock until he gave her a mouthful of delicious cum to swallow, she had more pressing things to do. It was his duty to be a good king here on Dragonstone and eventually to retake King’s Landing so the Targaryens could be back where they belonged, and it was her duty to give him many sons and daughters to strengthen their line. Since she’d lost eight children either in the birthing bed or soon thereafter while married to Aerys, it seemed only fitting that she give Viserys eight children to replace them. And in order to do that she needed to get started as soon as possible, which meant there was only one proper place for him to shoot his seed. It needed to go straight inside of her.

She regretted having to pull her mouth off of his cock before she could swallow it all like she really wanted, but she knew it was necessary. Viserys’ eyes were still clouded over as he struggled to deal with the heavy lust she was heaping on him, and she only made it harder for him to make sense of things when she got up to her feet and stripped out of the loose, low-cut dress she’d worn just for the occasion. She had foregone any smallclothes, knowing what she was here to do and not wanting anything to slow her down once she’d progressed far enough to pull her dress off. She was thankful she’d had that foresight now, because it was simple for her to climb back onto his lap, lower herself onto him and slide his cock inside of her for the first time. At last, he was where he belonged! He was home!

Viserys agreed. A change came over him the moment he penetrated her. Both of their fates were sealed then and there. She’d already been claimed by the curse long ago, and now Viserys was powerless to resist it too. He had been passive and resistant until now, but it was like the beast (make that the dragon) inside of him had come to life as soon as he felt his cock slide into his mother’s tight cunt. She didn’t have the opportunity to ride him; he didn’t give her the time to. He grabbed her full arse with both hands, stood up from his chair and carried her over to his bed, bouncing her on his cock along the way.

There was nothing gentle in his actions, from the way he slammed her down on his bed to the way he got on top of her and thrust his cock into her. She wouldn’t have had it any other way. It had been years since she’d been with a man, and this was the first time she’d ever _wanted_ to be fucked. There had been no love between her and Aerys, before or during their marriage, and sex with him had been an unpleasant obligation. Sex with Viserys was something else entirely. She _wanted_ this, wanted to be with him and be fucked by him. He was hers, first her boy and now her man, her lover, her king.

She didn’t want him to slow down or take it easy on her though. She wasn’t interested in having him make love to her. She wanted him to fuck her and fuck her _hard_ , and he was clearly feeling the same way. He slammed his cock inside of her harder than Aerys ever had, with all of his intensity but a skill and a size that her former husband would never have been able to dream of. His cock felt incredible driving inside of Rhaella, hitting deeper than anything she’d ever felt before. She had never enjoyed sex before today, but she knew she would never be able to get enough of it after this. She was hooked, but not just any man or just any cock would do. Only her son turned lover would ever be able to make her feel like this.

Viserys seemed to feel the same way. He was thrusting into her desperately, fucking her as hard as he could and doing everything possible to claim her. His mouth went to her breasts while he was fucking her, and he sucked at the special milk she produced just for him. It was all for him, all of it. Her body, from her head down to her toes, was his to do with as he pleased. It was a pleasure for her to get fucked by him, and it would be an honor to birth his children.

Despite the children she’d already had, both those who had made it and those who had not, her cunt was incredibly snug around him. That was the magic of the curse at work once again, keeping her tight and making sure it felt as wonderful as it could for him. Her cunt was as tight as it had been when she was a maiden, but without any of the pain that had accompanied that experience. She felt nothing but pure pleasure from having her son fucking her, and it was obvious that it was just as irresistible for him. 

“I’m going to breed you, mother,” he said, pulling his mouth away from her breast long enough to speak to her. “I’m going to fill you with my seed, and you’re going to give me children to rebuild the Targaryen dynasty. Many, many children. But it starts tonight.”

“Yes!” she moaned. She wrapped her legs around him and panted against his ear. “Do it, Viserys! Breed me, my king!”

He would have had a fight on his hands if he’d tried to pull out of her or spend his seed anywhere but inside of her cunt where it belonged, but they were on the same page here. Now that he’d given in and embraced the inevitability of the curse, they both knew that they had a job to do today and they weren’t going to stop until it was done.

Viserys thrust into her over and over, driving his hips into her and rocking her sexy body back and forth on his bed. It was the biggest and most comfortable bed on Dragonstone, because of course he’d taken Stannis’ former chambers for himself once the castle was theirs, but even this bed struggled to withstand the pounding he was giving her. Rhaella had no trouble handling it though. She would definitely admit it was exhausting, especially since it had been so long since she had even been touched by a man and then she’d jumped straight into this, but it was exhilarating at the same time. She had never felt so alive, so loved or so appreciated. Viserys had accepted what she had already known; that she was for him, and he was for her. They were meant for this, to fuck and breed and rebuild the Targaryen line, and no one other than her was fit to bear his children.

He was fucking her hard, not concerned in the least with trying to hold on or prolong this, either to make it good for her or to relish his first time. The greatest pleasure to be found by either of them would come from fulfilling what the curse demanded of them. Everything either of them did was in pursuit of that one goal, and so even as Rhaella’s body shook and she shouted out in the first orgasm she’d ever had from anything other than her own touch, her true focus was elsewhere.

“Do it!” she pleaded. “Cum in me, Viserys! Breed me, my king!”

After a few more hard, deep thrusts, that’s exactly what he did. He pushed his big cock as deeply inside of her as it could reach and began to cum inside of her. A massive amount of seed shot out of his cock and into her cunt, making its way to her fertile womb. With how she felt and how much seed he gave her, there was not a doubt in her mind that he was impregnating her then and there. He came and just kept cumming, and all the while he took a long suck of her breast and the special, sweet, delicious milk she’d been producing.

That should have been that. He’d finished cumming; he’d spent himself inside of her and undoubtedly gotten her pregnant with the first of many princes and princesses she would give him. But that was not the end of the night for either of them, not even close. Her cunt wasn’t designed just to make him cum once, milk him of a single dose of his seed and that would be the end of it. The curse (or maybe it should be renamed a blessing instead, because she certainly felt blessed by it) made sure that she could get as much of his seed as he could possibly give her. Even after he’d finished cumming, his cock did not go down for even a minute. Her cunt worked hard to keep him aroused, and after just a few seconds’ pause he got right back to thrusting his hips and fucking her with his cock all over again.

“Yes, Viserys!” she moaned. “Keep going! Give me more! Give me more!”

“I’ll never stop,” he promised. He pulled his head away from her breast to look into her eyes, and she gasped at what she saw in his eyes. “I’ll never stop fucking you. I’ll fuck you all night until my seed has taken root, and I’ll keep fucking you all day, every day.” She saw the fire of the dragon within him. Not the impotent rage of his father, who had fancied himself a dragon but lost everything, lost in his madness and powerless to stop his enemies from rising up and putting his empire to the torch. But Viserys was no mummer’s dragon. He was a Targaryen through and through, and he would take the Iron Throne back and rebuild the dynasty through fire and blood.

With Aerys she would have dreaded the thought of going again immediately after being fucked, but from Viserys she welcomed it. She would never be able to get enough of his big cock or his demanding thrusts, and she would not consider her day complete until he’d given her as much of his seed as he could.

Viserys forced his cock back and forth inside of her even harder than he had the first time, somehow gaining stamina his second time around and relentlessly fucking her until he’d given her a second load of seed that was at least as big as the first, if not bigger. But still he wasn’t done. Her cunt kept him hard, and he made the most of it. He pulled his erect cock out of her for the first time, but that was only so he could roll her over onto her belly and thrust right back into her, this time fucking her from the back.

His hips were a blur as he fucked into her from above, and she yelped into his pillow with every thrust. It was a good yelp though, the yelp of a woman getting the fucking she had needed for years, for all of her life. Finally she had found the man who could take care of her outside the bedchamber and fuck her rotten inside of it. She had found her dragon.

Giving her his seed for the third time wasn’t the end either. They went on for hours and hours, Viserys making good on his promise and continuing to fuck her all night. It became a blur for her, a haze of being moved to different positions and fucked in whatever way Viserys felt like fucking her. He fucked her from behind while she got down on all fours like a bitch; he pulled her on top of him, put his hands on her hips and bounced her on his cock. Then he took it further, carrying her off of the bed and bouncing her on his cock for a bit before pinning her against the wall and slamming into her. He bent her over his chair and took her while squeezing her breasts, and he fucked her against the door. Throughout it all, he gave her load after load after load of seed.

They ended where it all began, or at least what he’d been focusing on before she came in. He brushed the maps off of his desk, threw her down on top of it and slammed back into her one more time. His conquest of King’s Landing would have to wait for another day, because right now he had other things on his mind, namely impregnating his mother turned lover.

Rhaella was only semi-conscious by the end, her head hanging off of the desk limply and her hands hanging onto the edge while he fucked her. She was as exhausted as she could ever remember being, but she wouldn’t dream of asking him to stop. She was right where she wanted to be, and as long as he could keep going she would always be there to take it.

She could only manage a quiet, pathetic little groan as he came inside of her one final time. She was barely alert enough to realize he had scooped her up into his arms, taken her back to his bed and brought her under the sheets with him. He snuggled into her from behind, his finally flaccid cock pressed against the small of her back as they both fell asleep almost instantly. Their bodies had been worked and worked hard, and now they needed their rest. Especially since they had more of the same ahead of them as soon as they woke up in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/MayorHaggarFics


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